


Solace

by Lewdsmokesoldier



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Breast Fucking, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Impregnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27689648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lewdsmokesoldier/pseuds/Lewdsmokesoldier
Summary: Marianne von Edmund finds peace and happiness with the man she loves.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 14
Kudos: 56





	Solace

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Marianne von Edmund.
> 
> I've finally finished FE3H, and my chosen marriage was Marianne. I adore her. And yes, this is releasing on her birthday, November 23, or at least it's still November 23 where I am.
> 
> You can follow my FE3H journey on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Lewdsmoke).

Marianne sighed, mewling and clenching her fists, shivering slightly. What Byleth was doing shouldn’t have so much of an effect on her, shouldn’t have been reducing her to so much lovely uncertainty and trembling. But to be fair to her, she’d never had her chest groped the way that he was ever before, not once. 

Perhaps “groping” wasn’t a good word for it. That implied a degree of greed, of aggression and clumsiness, that simply wasn’t present. Not here, not with him. “Fondling” was a better word, maybe. 

His thumbs slid across her clothed nipples, and Marianne whined and rubbed her thighs together. She had had some idea that she was sensitive, but not like this. She was just in the light blue fabric of her underdress, her deeper azure outer-dress and shoulder-cloth up and off and discarded. His palms cupped the sides of her breasts through her clothing, pressing them together gently, brushing down and dragging his fingers along the underside of her chest as she moaned and sighed.

Marianne was soft clay in Byleth’s hands, and there was no happier feeling in the world. He leaned over her, lips brushing her nose, then her upper lip, then meeting her in a delicate kiss. They weren’t even lying down yet and Marianne couldn’t stop her knees from shaking. Her toes curled in her boots and she whimpered into his mouth. Why was his touch so magical? He wasn’t even grasping her bare skin, just brushing her breasts through two layers of clothing. Was she truly that vulnerable there, or was it just him?

Byleth smiled, still kissing her, and allowed himself to press his palms just a little more strongly against the sides of her bosom. Marianne’s chest squished a little closer together, her nipples rubbing against the fabric of her bra and dress, prompting a much less dignified squeal than she’d expected. 

He laughed, gently, and released her breasts, slowly sliding to his knees and guiding Marianne backwards. She followed his lead on unsteady feet, until she could only sit on the edge of the bed, knees bent, until Byleth straightened one leg, and then the other, and pulled her boots off one foot at a time. Then, he looked up and met her eyes, and tilted his head in a silent, earnest question.

Marianne knew what he was offering. In the past, she might have shied away from such a gift but now...now she could appreciate it in her own unsteady way. So she nodded and he smiled, and dipped his head below the hem of her dress. She couldn’t see him, but she could feel his hair brushing the inside of her thighs, moving closer and closer, until…

She could see the outline of his head, between her legs, nearly right up against her pelvis, but not quite, and then he was there, a finger carefully rubbing her through her underclothes. Marianne sighed happily, trying to relax, trying to flow with the up-and-down motion of his digit, tracing the slit of her lower lips through the fabric obstructing its passage. Byleth didn’t rush to pull her panties off, content to gently massage Marianne’s womanhood with slow, careful ascending and descending slides, circling the tip of his finger on the top of the upstroke. That always earned a little gasp from Marianne, and a satisfied chuckle from Byleth, but she knew he wasn’t mocking her. Just happy to help her feel good.

He slowed, and stopped, and she could sense his question. She preempted it before he could speak, the tension and warmth in her core growing, the dampness of the fabric telling. She did not beg, but the tiny, muffled request that spilled from her lips was as good as pleading.

Byleth hooked the finger through the waistband of her panties and began to pull down, slowly. Marianne lifted her hips to help him drag the ring of cloth past her buttocks, and the material stretched as he tugged it down, tickling her legs as it went. Then it was off, and he was back where it mattered, and after a half-breath of waiting, she felt- 

Marianne let slip a squeak that surprised even herself when Byleth’s lips met at the crown of her slit, suckling gently on the sensitive, engorged little bud at the top. It rang with waves of overstimulated pleasure, a paralyzing series of shudders that seemed to radiate outwards from it, nudged as it was by his kiss. She clenched her thighs around his head, unconsciously, and grabbed furiously at the bedsheets, leaning back, trying to slip from the enthralling clutch of his mouth on her clit. Her hips rose off of the bed a second time, and he snuck his hands forward to cup the underside of her rear and support her as he kept at work. She had no power to hold him, but he didn’t struggle, even as he released her, leaving his upper lip brushing the nub, and prodded forward and into her with his tongue.

Byleth kept her there, exploring and licking, sliding his tongue around the inside of her slit, keeping his top lip against the top of her opening so he could stimulate her from two fronts. His tongue probed and pressed, but he kept himself steady, and did not ratchet up the intensity with any sort of swirling, ravenous attentions. He just let her ride the smoothness of the movement and the rhythm of his ministrations, and kept going.

The poor woman couldn’t take much. She’d never enjoyed this sort of attention before, and Byleth knew what he was doing. Marianne whimpered, and cried out, and pushed her legs against the sides of his head. Soon enough, she was cumming against his tongue and lips, _from_ his tongue and lips, and what had dampened her panties returned twofold to soak his mouth and chin in trembling spurts. 

He smiled, though she couldn’t see it, and licked it up, both as it came and when it was left on his face. When she was done, sweating and smiling and dizzy, he withdrew his hands from where they were trapped between her butt and the bed, and leaned back, standing and looking a little _too_ proud of himself. 

Marianne was still woozy, still blinking away tears at the unfamiliar pleasure. She closed her eyes, trying to center herself, to focus on what she had and what she had found, and only relented and opened them back up when she heard two unfamiliar _swooshing_ and _clinking_ sounds.

Byleth had discarded his cloak, and his metal accoutrements, and was presently stepping out of his boots. When he caught her looking, he paused, and she nodded, biting her lip in a fashion that she hoped was enticing. He’d like that, right?

With her invitation, he disrobed himself, undoing buckles and buttons, peeling away leather and letting cloth flap and flutter as it was removed from his person, until he stood before her more naked than she, and could only rub the back of his neck sheepishly at her stupefied stare. 

Marianne couldn’t help it. He was strong, but not burly; sleek, but not slender; tall, but not overshadowing. The point of his chin seemed to draw attention to his sternum, and then his broad, muscular chest, which brought her eyes to drift down to his abdomen and-

Oh. Marianne knew she shouldn’t be flustered, given that Byleth had just serviced her with his mouth, but it still left her reeling when she looked down and saw, well, _him_. His length. His shaft. His...his cock, perhaps, or his dick. Goddess, even thinking like that was embarrassing. 

Catching the growth of red to her cheeks, Byleth chuckled again and reached forward, stepping towards her. His hand came to rest on hers, a promise. One she’d already happily accepted, and would forevermore.

Her free hand grabbed at the hem of her dress, and she began to pull him. He joined her, and she stood up to let him drag the material over her shoulders, raising her arms to let it come up and off of her. The action left her in near-equal nudity, and it took all of Marianne’s self-control to not move her hands to cover her crotch. She didn’t need to fear disappointing him, not after all he’d said and done for her.

Still, she was slightly embarrassed. Byleth’s smile was soft, and his gaze welcoming, but his eyes traced her form with obvious awe and a deep-seated sense of yearning. His stare traveled up, then down, tracing the flare of her hips, the curve of her waist, the smoothness of her thighs, and then lingering far, far longer on her chest. On how it struggled against the bra that held it, and the smooth, milky softness that even the sight of it could impart. Marianne had never felt so _wanted_ before, or at least not like this. Not with something so close to hunger, and that brought back...

No, no. This was different. This was whole, and it was herself, and it was him. Nothing else. Marianne was more than she had been, and Byleth had and would never be anything but wonderful to her. She had to stop living like things hadn’t changed, like both of them hadn’t become better.

Marianne allowed herself an unsteady smile, and she reached behind herself to undo the strap of her bra. Byleth blinked, surprised, as it fell away, and Marianne’s chest was left utterly exposed for him to behold, as she joined him in complete nakedness. 

If he’d looked awed before, now he was positively reverent. His eyes widened, his breathing caught, and his mouth hung open as he watched her breasts sway, released from their confines. It was just a little bit silly, but it was flattering, and Marianne felt his wonder wash over her in a wave of fresh confidence. Even when she was trying to please him, he still made _her_ feel better.

More telling of the intensity of his arousal was the stiffening of his prick, his length bobbing as it straightened, balls tensing beneath the base. The crudeness of the vulgar terms felt more natural to her, more comfortable. Perhaps because she was still riding the rush of having so much power over him. It was a nice feeling, truly.

Marianne lowered herself to her knees. Byleth stood, still overcome, as she shifted closer and propped up her tits, holding them between her hands, shuddering at the thrill of pleasure that rang through her as she touched her own tits: they really _were_ that sensitive, it seemed. Leaning forward, Marianne looked up at him and smiled in some combination of shyness, smugness, and adoration as the pillowy embrace of her breasts wrapped around Byleth’s cock, enfolding him a smooth tunnel of plush softness. 

She wasn’t sure how she knew what to do, but it seemed to come naturally to her. She slid forward, still smiling up at her wide-eyed, star-struck husband, who looked like he was having a religious revelation. Maybe he was, in a sense: Marianne wanted to worship him, to make him feel like he was worthy of supplication, because he truly was. If the best way to show that was by wrapping her tits around his stiff, thick length, then that was what she would do.

She could feel Byleth’s body heat throbbing through his shaft, echoing warmth into her bosom. Marianne felt powerful, more in control than she’d ever been, holding Byleth completely under her spell, mesmerizing him with the sensation of her breasts around his shaft and nuts. All of him that was trapped in her bosom was cloyed and comforted by a smooth, sheer grasp, and whenever his shaft twitched and her pinky fingers nudged her nipples, she moaned in tandem with him, wiggling her chest around him.

Still she moved forward, seeking a very particular target. As more and more of Byleth’s cock was fed into the tunnel she’d made with her breasts, the base of his dick approached, and sure enough, it took but a moment for her to feel her nipples nudge against his thighs. She’d swallowed up the whole of Byleth’s dick and balls into the makeshift valley of her cleavage. Now, for the finishing touch, she leaned forward, tits squishing up as her back closed the distance, and planted a kiss above Byleth’s bellybutton, a marker of her own flexibility and the milestone of enfolding the whole of his length with her tits. It shouldn’t have made her proud, but it did, and she hummed and smiled up at her husband while he grit his teeth at the overwhelming suppleness of it all.

Marianne leaned back, and readied herself to move, to milk his dick with the firm pressing of her soft chest around him, but evidently she’d overplayed her hand. Byleth couldn’t take any more. Moaning hoarsely, he clenched his fists, kept his eyes on her, and erupted. Spurt after spurt of sticky seed splattered into her squished-together tits, and then a second spew spouted further up, splashing streaks of salty spunk across her chin and lips. More poured forth, scattering across Marianne’s cheeks and nose, the rest of his load frothing and bubbling in the confines of her cleavage. His balls throbbed and twitched and tensed in time with his dick, pumping burst after burst of cum forward until her breasts seemed painted with it, with the final jet of warm cream striking Marianne square across the forehead.

Every wave of heat and slick fluid prompted fresh twinges of pleasure from her oversensitive chest, her nipples rubbing against his thighs, pinpoints of delight that left her head buzzing. Her tits were so, so easily stimulated, and with that grinding motion, and the eruption of seed, all that cascading onto and over her, growing encouragements for her to get him to cum more...she couldn't stop herself. Her head was buzzing, her knees trembling, and there wasn't anything she could do. Her thighs pressed together, her shoulders shook, and she squirmed and came with a delighted coo, brought to the brink by his cumming cock between her tits, the constant barrage of sticky pleasure, and the dragging movement of her still-too-vulnerable nipples.

Marianne blinked, dazed, shocked at her own outburst. That was _good_. Very, very good. She panted, smiling, happy and marveling at the volume of Byleth’s peak. She...wasn’t sure what the standard was, but was it always so much? Maybe it was her that brought out so much in him. It was plastered across her face, oozing down from her forehead to her eyebrows, then to her nose, cheeks, lips and chin, only to drip onto the cum-flooded mess that he’d made of her chest. That was little better off, utterly plastered and sodden with spunk, coating her skin and his own shaft and nuts with his eruption. Yet Marianne couldn’t help but feel overjoyed. She’d made Byleth feel wonderful, as wonderful as he made her, and that was exactly what she’d wanted.

He looked down at her with that same sense of awe, tempered with earnest adoration and a deeper love. She would have been more than fulfilled if he’d embraced her, and the two of them faded into drowsiness...but Byleth was stronger than that. He did not retreat here. He gently extricated himself from her tits, helped her up on wobbly legs—ignoring how the spunk on her chest spilled to the carpet—and kissed her, heedless of his own load on her face. She giggled, he smiled, and they embraced in a full, firm hug, pushing again towards the bed, until she was on her back, and him atop her.

Marianne looked down between their bodies, breaking the kiss, and saw his length, still stiff, shimmering and slick. She saw the evidence of his own eruption onto her chest, and felt it on her visage still.

He didn’t need confirmation. She’d been ready long enough. Byleth pushed forward, Marianne tried to relax, and with a slow sigh, he entered her, pushing inside with a _shlick_ and a smooth slide. 

She gasped, and grabbed at his arms, uncertain how to manage the sensation of being so...foreignly filled. It was a strain, and it was a challenge, to take something she’d never yet tried, but Byleth was gentle and patient. When she protested, he eased up, and when she cooed for more, he persisted. Marianne felt stretched taut around him, but it was a good sort of pain, the kind that let her know she’d come out from this all the stronger. Like...like training, in a way. The thought was silly, and she couldn’t suppress a giggle, which earned a confused, happy little snort from Byleth. 

Not exactly picturesque, but Marianne wasn’t sure _how_ she’d pictured this going. She hadn’t thought about this much at all, and now it was happening, and Byleth was inside her and she felt so _full_. Then he sighed, and she felt the twin weight of his nuts tap against her rear, and Marianne suddenly realized that he’d bottomed out in her, stuffing her with as much of his dick as she could handle. And she could handle all of it, such that now his pubic hair was tickling her smooth, blue bush. His balls rested against her asshole—now _that_ word would still take some getting used to—and the head of his cock nestled as deep within her as it could, nudging the back of her womanhood and teasing what lay beyond.

Marianne could barely breathe, and he hadn’t even started moving yet. She was sticky and slick with cum and sweat, and still she felt utterly caught in this second of being wrapped so completely around Byleth’s dick. It was a wonderful feeling, and the yawning emptiness she felt in her core when he pulled back was just-as-quickly filled again with a little thrust that let him bottom out in her a second time.

He did not move quickly, but every push, every nudge, every little motion left Marianne feeling wrung-out in the best possible way. When he leaned forward, his chest pressed against her bosom and her tits squished up beneath him, ticklish and still tender from being so sincerely worked over. When his cock dragged along her inner walls on the way in and the way out, the friction left her head abuzz with pleasure, her heart pumping like it was working in sync with his thrusts. When the tip of his dick pressed at the very deepest recesses inside her, there was a sharper jolt of pleasure-pain, a stinging, yelp-inducing hiccup that faded into smoother, number pleasure. When his balls swung and smacked against her rear entrance, it tensed and throbbed and Marianne sobbed in delight at the unfamiliar drumming sensation.

Marianne didn’t even realize that she’d wrapped her legs around him until Byleth grunted in acknowledgement and she realized her ankles were criss-crossed across his back. She’d been too overwhelmed by all the newness, all the inputs, all the motion, slow and gentle as it was. She really had no defense against it, and that was a surrender she was happy to facilitate.

Byleth didn’t speed up when he came, but his thrusting took on a new, deeper, rawer intensity. It was still loving, but there was a restrained force behind his movements that Marianne could recognize. He was holding back, trying to stave off the inevitable a little bit longer, and drag it out without losing control. She felt it in her, too, a twisting coil of heat and energy that desperately wanted to be untwisted, but it was predicated on him, on his pleasure and his release.

She leaned up and kissed him, holding it, nodding as she rubbed her cum-strewn cheek into his. Byleth let out a relieved sigh, pushed his dick in as deep as it would go one last time, and let go. His balls twitched against Marianne’s taut back hole as they pumped spurt after spurt of rich, warm cream into her, a flood of seed that painted her inner walls and rocketed even deeper. Waves of spunk rushed into her with one splatter, and then the next, until Marianne was well and truly certain that Byleth had painted, plastered, and blasted her with all the cum that he could, except then he _kept going_ , kept cumming into and inside of her. Her core seemed to blossom with a warm delight, the same that had chased her when he’d put paid to her with his tongue and lips and when she'd wrapped her tits around his dick, and so she peaked in the middle of his. She clenched and clutched and bore down on his cumming cock as if she could stop it from jetting into her. Marianne’s legs around his back kept him from withdrawing even if he wanted to, and he absolutely had no intention of doing so, it seemed, as he emptied his nuts into Marianne with eager intensity that belied the softness of their lovemaking.

Byleth murmured into her lips, a promise, a hope, and Marianne agreed wholeheartedly and eagerly, both lucid and carried away by the delight of it all. She welcomed being stuffed full to the brim with his cum, her womb overflowing with the many, many servings of his seed that he had offered to her. A marker of their mutual adoration, and their shared love.

He’d given her the world. She’d given him peace. Making something new together was the only thing that made sense, now that they had a future.


End file.
